


put your hand on my heart (and i don't have to say it)

by xxrisque



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, First Kiss, Genderqueer Grantaire, Love at First Sight, Smitten Courfeyrac
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-11
Updated: 2014-04-11
Packaged: 2018-01-18 22:35:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1445347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxrisque/pseuds/xxrisque
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a girl who works in the university library who wears glasses and sweater vests and has dimples when she smiles.</p><p>Courfeyrac is in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	put your hand on my heart (and i don't have to say it)

“I am in love,” Courfeyrac sighs dreamily, throwing herself backwards onto Maria’s bed, “and she barely even knows I _exist._ "

“Now, now,” Maria replies, not even bothering to turn away from her screen and look at her housemate, “you’re starting to sound like me.”

“I thought you of all people would pity me.” Courfeyrac grumbles, covering her eyes with her arms. “She’s so beautiful I want to cry.”

Maria lets out a long-suffering sigh and turns to look at her. She’s still on her back, knees pushed up and one shoe half off her foot. She’s kept her jacket on and her book bag has dropped to the floor beside Maria’s bed.

“So, go on, tell me about her.”

“She works in the library and she wears sweater vests and she has dimples when she smiles big and god, Maria, she’s gorgeous and I don’t even know her name.”

“Not that I’m not finding your struggle incredibly funny or anything, but have you considered actually talking to her?”

“I have spoken to her!” Courfeyrac bolts upwards and stares at him. “And she’s obviously smarter than I could ever hope to be and _oh god_ I was checking out a book about _garden design_ , what if she thinks I’m stupid?”

“What did you say to her? And she won’t think you’re stupid because you had a book relating to an art degree, you idiot. This isn’t the seventies.”

“Well, she asked if I found everything I wanted and I was sort of lost for words because, you know, she’s really cute and I was maybe thinking about kissing her, and I just… nodded at her? Then she gave me my books and I ran for it. Christ, I _am_ as bad as you.”

“I’ll go with you tomorrow, then? I’ve got to grab a few books for research anyway. Then you might be able to ask her name.”

 

Taking Maria with her is probably a mistake.

“God, could you be any _more_ obvious?” She groans quietly, looking up from her laptop to see Maria peering around conspicuously. “She’s not here.”

Right on cue, the girl walks through the front barriers and moves behind the desk, smiling brightly at the boy that’s already there.

“Oh, oh, that’s her!” Courfeyrac slaps Maria’s arm a few times. “The one with the gingery hair and the full fringe and the sweater with the adorable heart elbow patches.”

“Yeah, I see her.”

“Give me those.” Courfeyrac gets to her feet, straightening her shorts and grabbing Maria’s stack of bilingual dictionaries.

“Courf, wait-”

“Not now, Maria.”

She approaches the front desk and stops, steeling herself with a slow breath.

“Hi,” the girl behind the desk says, smiling at her, “what can I help you with?”

“I’d just like to check these out, please.” Courfeyrac replies, pointedly ignoring the blush rising up her cheeks. She pushes the books and her library card over the desk at the other girl.

“Oh, I’m sorry, these are reference books. You can’t take them out.” at this she stops and looks down at Courfeyrac’s card before she leans over to hand her it back, “Sorry, Courfeyrac. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Your name, maybe?”

“Sorry?”

“You could tell me your name. Seems only fair, since you know mine.”

“Combeferre.” The other girl smiles curiously, cocking her head slightly. “Second year philosophy.”

“Cool. Good to know.” Courfeyrac practically beams back. “Courfeyrac, obviously.”

“Nice to meet you.” Combeferre replies, blushing a gentle pink. “But, shouldn’t you get back to your... girlfriend?”

Courfeyrac wheels around and sees Maria sitting awkwardly alone, watching her.

“Who, her? Christ, not my girlfriend. So not my girlfriend -she’s grey-romantic, anyway. Just my housemate.”

“Sorry, I just assumed. I have to get back to work, though. I’ll see you around?” Combeferre’s lips quirk into a tiny smile and Courfeyrac nods, grinning brightly.

“Yeah. See you.”

Courfeyrac all but skips back to their table, and when she returns she drops down into her seat and opens her laptop again before she sighs wistfully.

“Combeferre. Her name’s Combeferre. It’s as perfect as she is.” She smiles dopily at her screen, staring at the blank word processor document she’d left open.

Maria just stares at her.

 

She goes back a few days later with Grantaire.

“You could at least pretend to have something to do.” Grantaire grumbles as they peruse the shelves of the graphic design section in search of a tome on art nouveau ceramics. “Especially since you made me sit around until your _girlfriend_ showed up.”

“Not my girlfriend,” Courfeyrac replies, rocking backwards and forwards on her feet as she flicks through the book on tort law in her hand, “just because I sort of wish she was doesn’t change anything.”

“Mmhm, sure.” Grantaire rolls their eyes as they push themselves up onto the balls of their feet to grab the book they’d been looking for. “Go check this out for me.”

“Check it out yourself, lazy arse.”

“And there was me being charitable and offering you a _genuine excuse_ to talk to her.”

“I don’t need an excuse to talk to her, we’re adults, we can talk whenever we like.” Courfeyrac huffs, folding her arms over the book in her hands. “And besides, even if I _did_ , I’ve got one. Bahorel needs this book for her dissertation.”

“Well, get this while you’re there.” Grantaire forces the book into her hands.

Courfeyrac huffs at her but takes it anyway and shuffles over to the reception desk.

“Hello again." Combeferre smiles at her. “Just these?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Courfeyrac smiles back. “Busy day?”

“No, not really.” Combeferre laughs, and it’s gently melodic and brightens Courfeyrac’s mood instantly. “Never is, unless we’re close to a deadline.”

She hands Courfeyrac the books back.

“Will I be seeing you again soon?”

“Oh, probably. Have a good day.”

“I’ll try. You too.”

Combeferre smiles at her and Courfeyrac swears she sees her blush as she looks back at her computer screen, and she returns to Grantaire with a spring in her step.

They hold their hands out as soon as they see her and Courfeyrac deposits the book into their hands.

“How’s lovergirl?”

“She’s fine.” Courfeyrac replies as she sits down opposite them, not even bothering to deny their comments. “Now, talk to me about Charles Rennie Mackintosh.”

“Do I have to?”

“You do if you don’t want to flunk your second year.”

“Ugh.”

 

Courfeyrac returns alone a hectic week later, after presentations and hand-ins and a painfully long economics project. Combeferre isn’t at the front desk, so she returns her books through the self-service machine and heads upstairs into the design section.

She finds Combeferre on the way, stacking shelves in the social sciences section. She watches her for a moment, leaning against the shelves, until the other girl notices her.

“Oh, hey, Courfeyrac.” She smiles, and Courfeyrac is only half prepared for the way it makes her heart jump. “I haven’t seen you in a while. Everything alright?”

“Yeah, things have just been a bit busy lately. Could you show me where the gender studies department is? I need to pick up a few books.”

“Of course. Follow me.” Combeferre replies, beckoning her with a tilt of her head. She leads her through the intertwining mess of bookshelves and computer stations and haggard third years until they reach the right corner of the library.

“Here you go. Anything specific you’re looking for?”

“Yeah, Jehan gave me a list, actually. Do you mind?”

“Not at all.” Combeferre leans over her shoulder to read Jehan’s messy handwriting. She nods to herself and crouches down to check the bottom shelf.

“So, what do you study? I never had chance to ask, and you’re always reading something different.” Combeferre asks conversationally, as she fingers through the collection of books in front of her.

“Political science.” Courfeyrac replies with a gentle laugh. “My friends are just lazy and send me to get their books.”

“Well, that explains the garden design, and the German dictionaries, and the Scottish pottery, and the tort law, and now the gender theory, I suppose.” Combeferre laughs, pulling a book from the shelf and standing up. “Surely they could’ve managed to come down themselves, though?”

“I’m here a lot, for one reason or another.” Courfeyrac shrugs, a blush spreading high up her cheeks.

“And what would those reasons be?” Combeferre asks, flicking through the book in her hands.

“I quite like seeing you, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“Oh.” Combeferre blushes and blinks a few times, her eyes huge behind her glasses. “ _Oh._ ”

Courfeyrac smiles sheepishly.

“Er, I’ve actually read this book, I’d recommend it to your friend. There’s an excellent section on gender roles versus gender identity.” Combeferre continues after a moment of awkward silence, stepping closer to Courfeyrac so that their arms press together.

Courfeyrac looks at her and frowns, lips pinched curiously. Combeferre smiles softly, holds the book in one hand and lifts it to cover their faces, before she leans in and gently presses their lips together.

When they separate, Courfeyrac gapes at her.

“Was that wrong?” Combeferre asks nervously, lowering the book and snapping it closed.

Courfeyrac shakes her head and closes her mouth.

“No, it wasn’t. That was –that was kind of great, honestly.”

Combeferre beams and blushes, giggling a little to herself.

“When do you finish work?” Courfeyrac asks, shifting on her feet as she looks up at Combeferre.

“In about twenty minutes, why?”

“Do you want to go for coffee, maybe? There’s this great fairtrade place in town that I think you’ll like.”

“Sounds great.” Combeferre smiles, playing with the hem of her jumper bashfully. “Should we go back to looking for these books now?”

“Yeah.” Courfeyrac laughs, picking up a book on queer theory and holding it to her face as she pulls Combeferre in for another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on [tumblr](http://badlydressedbahorel.tumblr.com)!
> 
> (also, to clarify & because I'm a dork who planned all of this out: Courf studies political science, Ferre studies philosophy, Bahorel does law, Grantaire does graphic design, Jehan does gender studies, Maria does German & Italian joint honours and Feuilly does architecture (she's responsible for the garden design book) uwu)


End file.
